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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25286467">rushing</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/monsoons/pseuds/monsoons'>monsoons</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>NCT (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - College/University, Business Major Slander, Creampie, Fraternities &amp; Sororities, M/M, Semi-Clothed Sex, Threesome - M/M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 10:02:36</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,572</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25286467</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/monsoons/pseuds/monsoons</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>And yeah, maybe it should concern Jeno that his moral compass and subsequent distaste for the big bad capitalist machine is being swayed by the base instinct desire to be bent over by pretty boys in pricy suits. </p><p>Except, when it’s about Chenle and Jaemin, everything comes instinct first.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Lee Jeno/Na Jaemin, Lee Jeno/Na Jaemin/Zhong Chen Le, Lee Jeno/Zhong Chen Le, Na Jaemin/Zhong Chen Le</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>139</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>rushing</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>dear business majors, sorry for the slander &lt;3  dear anyone reading this, sorry in general &lt;3</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The day he’d gotten picked up by his big and consequently, the night Doyoung outdrank his own little at the reveal party, Doyoung had looked him in the eye, pointed his finger over Jeno’s shoulder, and, stumbling on his feet, had enunciated, “Never, <em> ever </em>, date a business major.”</p><p>So like the good little he is, Jeno dates a business major. Two of them, actually. And Doyoung is right. There are little upsides to dating business majors. Like, almost none. At a university like Jeno’s, they’re reputed to be chatty at best and cutthroat at worst, competitive to a fault and assholes by default.</p><p>But between all the easy caricatures and listening to his boyfriends complain about soft skill classes, whatever the hell those are, there are a number of unreported perks.</p><p>Cut to: now, sitting on their couch with a pile of chemistry problem sets and tapping the metal nib of his mechanical pencil against the paper as he keeps an eye on the clock. Any moment now and—</p><p>He hears the door knob turn, the rusty hinges creaking as footsteps and laughter peter in. Like a kid with his hand caught in the cookie jar, he rushes back into a problem set, adamant on scrawling out the formula even as he can feel the anticipation bubbling up inside.</p><p>“And then Mark turned to him with this blank look on his face and was like, hey… were you the one who asked me out for a boba date on Linkedin? I’ve never seen someone bolt so fast.”</p><p>“Talk about networking—“</p><p>The conversation slides to a stop in front of Jeno, who looks up, glasses perched on his nose. “Had a good time, boys?”</p><p>It’s Jaemin who first bends down to drop a kiss on Jeno’s forehead. Up close, he can smell the heady cologne Jaemin puts on for special occasions, the woody scent of sage pulling him in like the ocean tide. “No, it was boring as hell. I think the panel put me in a better sleep than those melatonin pills.”</p><p>Moving across the room, Chenle pulls a face. “When they said free food, I had higher expectations than Oreos and tea biscuits, sue me. We stopped to get take out on the way back,” he says, disappearing into the kitchen with the plastic bag, before reappearing with a smile. “Stuck it in the fridge for later though.”</p><p>Later, Jeno’s mind echoes, although food, in this rare moment, is the last thing on his mind. He’s more concerned about the now, about the two boys standing in front of him, hair still perfectly styled, shiny watches glinting under their cuffs. The way their suits drape their frame, hugging their shoulders and curving down their waist. How Chenle fills out the slim cut lines of his navy twill blazer and how Jaemin’s ass looks downright divine in those grey slacks.</p><p>No matter how confused Jeno may be about the nature of the events Jaemin and Chenle have to attend for their business frat (“What the fuck is smart casual? And how is that different from business casual?”), he will always be thankful for the occasional sight of his boyfriends looking ridiculously expensive in their formal attire.</p><p>“I can’t believe you have a hard on for Wall Street looking types,” Donghyuck had pointed out once over lunch, gagging on his salad in disgust as Jeno sighed over a picture of his boyfriends posing in front of some tech firm’s booth. </p><p>And yeah, maybe it should concern Jeno that his moral compass and subsequent distaste for the big bad capitalist machine is being swayed by the base instinct desire to be bent over by pretty boys in pricy suits. </p><p>Except, when it’s about Chenle and Jaemin, everything comes instinct first.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>It’s a miracle they make it to the bedroom. </p><p>All day, this was all Jeno could think about, between long lectures and the droning voices of his professors, eager to get home and past another turn of the clock, the jolt of excitement spooling heat in his gut. The glimpse of Chenle toying with his cufflinks would have been enough to get him on his knees, right then and there in the living room.</p><p>But by the coaxing of Chenle’s tongue and Jaemin’s hand on his waist, they make it through the bedroom door, elbows inches from banging against each other as Jeno drops onto the large towel unceremoniously laid on top of the bed.</p><p>“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but can you keep your shirt on, just for a bit,” Jeno asks when Jaemin begins to remove his blazer. He doesn’t miss the knowing gaze that passes between Jaemin and Chenle, breaking off into gasps as he bucks against Chenle’s roaming hands.</p><p>“Of course, baby. And have you been good for us, waiting at home?” Jaemin’s mouth latches onto Jeno’s neck, working down the stretch of bared skin as Jeno tips his head back to give him access.</p><p>Jeno screws his eyes shut, tampering down the whine building in his chest. Despite the anticipation, he wasn’t quite there, not so ready yet to lay all these parts of him bare. But soon. </p><p>“Yes,” he mumbles, shifting his weight into Chenle’s lap. Chenle traces his waist, hands creeping past the hem to glide over Jeno’s abdomen, fingerprints leaving hot spots in their wake.</p><p>“You’re wearing my hoodie,” Chenle marvels, fingers catching on the zipper. The grey fabric slips from Jeno’s shoulders and bunches around his waist.</p><p>Jaemin hums, mirth tinging his words as they ghost over Jeno’s ear. “And my sweats. Did we forget to do the laundry?”</p><p>“No,” Jeno groans. There’s a flush creeping across his chest, not helped by the rising heat of the room despite the chilly autumn wind rustling the leaves outside. “Just wanted some, ah, company.”</p><p>There’s the sound of a popping cap, the wet squelch of the half empty lube bottle emptied onto Jaemin’s fingers as Chenle works off his sweatpants and helps him part his legs. “We spent the whole time talking about you. Wondering what you were doing at home, how eager you must have been waiting for us at home.”</p><p>Even if Jeno couldn’t quite see him from this angle, he can imagine the lazy quirk of Chenle’s lips as he laughs. “Had to excuse ourselves to the bathroom a few times because Jaemin couldn’t keep it together.”</p><p>Slipping in a finger, Jaemin rolls his eyes. “And who was the one who wanted to get handsy in the stall?”</p><p>Heat pulses inside him as the film reel clicks to life, an image of Chenle kneeling down on the bathroom tiles to take the length of Jaemin's cock with that cheeky smile, fingers digging into his slacks for leverage. Jaemin adds another finger, working it in inch by inch, and the sensation is enough to make Jeno’s head spin. Shuddering, Jeno grinds down, seeking the stretch of Jaemin’s fingers.</p><p>“More, come on, you know I can take it—“</p><p>“Enthusiastic today, are we?” Jaemin asks, but Jeno can hear the crack in his placid demeanor as he angles his wrist, reaching further, wider. Some twisted part of Jeno revels in it, the victory of ruffling Jaemin’s typically spotless persona, reaching past the million dollar smile to unearth a shaky, frantic boy who is always eager to please.</p><p>Behind him, Chenle sucks in a breath. “You look so good, you know that? Insane, actually. I nearly lost my mind in the bathroom thinking about how good you’d look with my dick inside you. You want that, hm?” He delivers this all with a smile, voice light like he’s talking about the weather as his hands make their ministrations round Jeno’s nipples, rolling the hard nubs between his fingers.</p><p>“Don’t be rude,” Jaemin snorts. He’s knuckle deep, three fingers in, but he’s stopped his ministrations, pulling out his fingers at the sound of Chenle’s laughter. Jeno whines at the loss of contact, squirming around the emptiness and the ache for something more. “I want to go first.”</p><p>This is what Jeno gets for dating not one, but two business majors. Between Jaemin’s brand of constant chatter and Chenle’s enthusiasm for seeing the world explode, their apartment sometimes felt like a dumpster fire of bravado and playground antagonism, and Jeno the weary referee.</p><p>With any other people, it would have been tiring, annoying. But there was something so captivating about Chenle and Jaemin, like watching a tennis match, the ball bouncing back and forth on the court without a single miss, each time ricocheting off a different inch of the court only to smack against the same woven wires. Unpredictable, familiar, exciting, all rolled up in one whirlwind combination of unending banter and sexual tension.</p><p>“Jaemin can go first,” he tells Chenle. He can feel the hitch in his breath, waiting for the cue words on something Jeno had nonchalantly catapulted into routine months ago at a dinner table discussion. “Then you can fuck me later when I’m full of Jaemin’s cum.”</p><p>It’s like striking the first match against the surface, seeing the flicker of heat bloom in Chenle’s eyes as he reaches for the stray lube bottle and hands it off to Jaemin. For all their competitiveness, they were still gentle to each other, and that warmth that bubbles in Jeno’s chest when Chenle leans over to land a stolen kiss on Jaemin reminds him of that. These were his boys, <em> his </em>, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.</p><p>Breaking off from the kiss, Jaemin stands up to unzip his pants, the slacks fall to his ankles before he ambles towards the bed again. He kneels in front of Jeno, lines up his hips, eyes trailing the curve of his cock, and falling down to his hole, slick with lube.</p><p>“Ready?” Jaemin asks, but he’s already pushing in, the joke an afterthought the moment he sinks into Jeno’s warm, wet heat, question mark traded for a groan.</p><p>Jeno hisses, revelling in the stretch of Jaemin’s dick. It’s strangely sentimental to call the sensation of his ass being filled homey, but Jeno loves the familiarity. Eight months have passed since the first day he walked in on Jaemin perched on the dorm sink, sucking faces with Chenle and offering only a small “sorry” when Jeno had dropped his toothbrush on the floor. He’s taken that time to map out every inch of their bodies, memorizing the slopes of their thighs, the rhythm of their hips. The way Jaemin is a fucking tease. </p><p>“Stop fucking me like we’re in a senior citizen’s home,” Jeno demands, despite the curling sensation in his toes as Jaemin pushes slowly, deeply into him.</p><p>“So impatient,” Jaemin mutters, but Jeno knows him. He was born to please, born to chase the praise. Like a snap of a magician’s finger, he pulls out and slams in again, this time a different, delicious angle that slices through Jeno with zinging pleasure. He thanks God for Chenle cushioning the otherwise vicious slam against the headboard, his fingers digging into the back of Jeno’s knees as he holds him open for Jaemin.</p><p>They know how Jeno likes it: rough, dirty, bent in half like a ragdoll as Jaemin pistons his hips into Jeno. He can feel the growing hardness in Chenle’s pants, relishes in the quiet moans he draws out of him as he nudges back on him with every thrust Jaemin sends their way.</p><p>“Two can play at this,” he hears Chenle mumble, hand coming up to tease the head of Jeno’s dick, swiping at his slit. His mouth is occupied with sucking a bruise into the juncture of Jeno’s neck. Already, the sensation is building in Jeno like water lapping against a dam, testing the pressure, but not yet. Not yet. He redirects Chenle’s hand to his chest, no doubt drawing a smirk from Chenle against Jeno’s skin.</p><p>“You’re so sensitive, huh,” Jaemin says, his words punctuated by small groans as his strokes become faster and faster inside Jeno. </p><p>Jaemin is already on the edge, Jeno can see it, a small crease drawn between his eyebrows, jaw tense. The next time he pushes forward, Jeno clenches down, just as Chenle pinches his nipple, pleasure writhing through him like live wire.</p><p>Jaemin didn’t stand a chance.</p><p>Gasping, he spills inside of Jeno, quick spurts that Jeno milks out with his legs hooked around hips, pushing up his shirt to avoid the stains they’d have to scrub out. He loves it, how Jaemin just comes and comes and comes, filling Jeno up to the brim.</p><p>He thinks of Jaemin’s face, beet red as he’d coughed into his sleeve, Chenle cackling as he slapped his back, and compares it to now. How Jaemin’s face twists with satisfaction when Jeno whines for more, faster, jerking his hips to the slip and slide. How he flops on top of Jeno when he’s all spent, sighing into Jeno’s shoulder as Jeno runs his fingers through his stiff, gelled hair.</p><p>“Next,” Jeno says and Jaemin rolls over in laughter.</p><p>Behind him, Chenle moves, careful to maneuver around Jeno’s precarious position on the towel. He drops in front of Jeno, hands smooth down Jeno’s closed legs. “My turn?” he asks, because it’s always a question with Chenle, always something precarious teetering on the unknown. A sparking undercurrent, rippling beneath the surface of nonchalance, only to burst through when Jeno beckons him into his arms.</p><p>“Fuck yes,” he sighs out moments later when he sinks into Jeno, the slide of his dick replacing the clenching emptiness. It’s obscene, the sound of the lube Chenle had slathered on slicking around with Jaemin’s cum, intensified by the slapping noise of skin against skin. </p><p>He sees his lust reflected in Jaemin’s heated gaze as he sits behind Chenle, fingers toying with the shot of metal through one of his nipples. Chenle squirms, but he doesn’t falter. He forges forward to chase Jeno’s mouth, one of those sloppy open mouthed kisses he’s so fond of that leaves both of them gasping for air.</p><p>Whereas Jaemin is vocal, always talking, mumbling, moaning when he fucks, Chenle is much more quiet. Instead, he talks with his hands, constantly looking for contact, skin to grip and roam. Jeno shudders when Chenle’s hand comes to grip around Jeno’s shaft, the jerking motion sending a tall wave of pleasure that sweeps him from the shore of consciousness.</p><p>At some point in his life, Jeno had wanted to fight it. To keep his head above water, to always be in control. But under Chenle and Jaemin, he turns himself over to the tide, letting the waves of pleasure pull him under the dizzying depths. He cries against the sheets and bucks into Chenle’s hands, his gut swirling like a whirlpool when he feels Chenle’s hips stutter into release.</p><p>When the orgasm comes, it hits him point blank, the world fizzing apart under seafoam. He rides it until it splashes against the shore, Chenle pulling out of him with a groan.</p><p>“Third dress shirt down,” he sighs, flopping down next to Jeno as Jaemin pets his hair. His smile is infectious. “So many button downs sacrificed to cum.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
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</p><p>(There are little upsides to dating business majors, but as Jeno lounges on the couch, snuggled between his boyfriends in front of their empty takeout containers, he thinks there are many, many upsides to dating Jaemin and Chenle.)</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>[insert image of that raccoon going ummm uhhhh ummm]</p></blockquote></div></div>
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